The Gym

I sampled a new class tonight at the gym. (Which is another way of saying, who is going to help me get out of bed in the morning?)

I was between something called SPLASH! and something called TurboKick. I asked Grantley which one she'd go for and she remained silent 0n the topic but I recalled that she side-stepped some H2O just moments before(in the blogosphere, I mean)and my Mah? When kickboxing first came out and I said I wanted to do it? My Mah was like...oooh nooooo. That's tooooo violent.

Which (even tho it's like 80 years later)means I had to try it. Right?

Plus I've been feeling very irritated. Not irritable because that would be my fault, correct? Irritated. I think maybe it's the time change or maybe it's those other annoying things.

Yeah you know. People.

But I digress. Off I went to TurboKick. I did my usual 'trying to chat with someone who looked reasonably pleasant and/or nice' as we all waited for Edna (yes, her real name)to complete the previous class which is known as Ab Blast.(Notice I haven't sampled that one yet. There's scary and there's scary, no?) The lady I selected to cheer me up did not fill me with joy and/or optimism. Which was rude because it was so clear that I needed a little bit of each.

I inquired, "Is this really hard?"

And she said, "Yes."

Wow, huh? Is it any wonder that I captured the center spot of the coveted back row? Okay painful learning experience here: Altho you're relatively safe from the rest of the class hooting at your dorkliness when you're safely tucked away in the back row? You also can't see the teacher. So there are layers of spazmosis. There's the 'I can't do this yet' thing layered on top of the 'What is she doing now?' thing. It's bad. Believe me. (Not tooth extraction bad. More like decreased Girl Scout cookie box size bad.)

We got to the '30 minute/considering walking out because we are so incredibly floundering/too afraid to run into everyone afterwards in the locker room' interval and then once you get to minute 31? Well, you're thinking, okay I'm more than halfway done. Might as well hang in there for the next bit. Maybe it'll be good. (Plus there's always the joy of the cool-down to look forward to. It's like a poor mans massage. Kinda+sorta+if you squint. And the clapping at the very end. I like that.)

A first night in a new class puts me in the mind of trying to enter a twirling double dutch jump rope. You oh so totally want to be leaping around like everyone else but no matter what you do there's going to be a period of time when you're standing to the side kinda pawing like a polar bear beckoning for marshmallows.

Beckoning burns calories.

Who knew?